


two boring sane guys having a normal time

by Bootstrap_Paradox



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bootstrap_Paradox/pseuds/Bootstrap_Paradox
Summary: one time Todd helps Dirk put on a shirt, and another when he takes the shirt off of him-Looking away, afraid of their eyes meeting, afraid of feeling something they’re not supposed to. Todd’s fingers brush against Dirk’s wrists and palms as he pulls the t-shirt off him. A moment of silence passes by. Dirk feels exposed, and yet safe. He already trusted Todd with his life. What’s a bit of tender physical contact between good friends…
Relationships: Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	two boring sane guys having a normal time

**Author's Note:**

> posted this: https://bootstrapparadoxed.tumblr.com/post/627624882225692672/thinking-about-how-when-todd-comes-to-pick-up-dirk  
> and some people said they want the fic so i wrote the fic, simple as that

It is day seven of knowing Todd, and Dirk is anxious.

The car is parked sideways next to the entrance and someone might bump into it at any moment. He can see it from the window, the same window he climbed through a week prior: climbed and burst into Todd’s life like a bright yellow hurricane.

Now Todd is quite close too, picking up the things he forgot. The apartment is utterly trashed; cracked walls and shattered glass, destroyed along with their previous lives. Apartment’s a mess and Dirk’s mind is a mess and there is absolutely no point in trying to sort through any of it, so he just sort of sits there on the couch. Thinking.

-You okay? – Todd asks, noticing his absent stare.

Dirk considers the gnawing ache of the wounds and the kaleidoscope of feelings wrecking through his head and how he still hadn’t quite processed the words “because I am your friend”, and gives a singular nod.

Todd seems satisfied with that reply. He returns to searching for his wallet, and Dirk’s glance moves over to the pile of clothes to his left. The disposable hospital clothes must go. He has a new shirt to wear… Though changing from one to another might be easier said than done.

-Todd? – Dirk says, not quite believing his own bravery.

-Yes? – Todd is standing a few meters away from him, wallet found and returned to the back pocket of his trousers.

-Can you… - Dirk begins, gesturing vaguely at himself and the clothes. – The shoulder’s bad. – He elaborates. – I have the motion range of a well-trained seal.

-Oh you want me to… - Todd begins as well, and stops as well, and smiles, just a dash of surprise on his face. – Okay. Um. – He approaches the couch. – Stay like that, don’t stand up.

And then it happens. Todd helps him undress. He slides down the zipper of the jacket, slowly, and pulls it off his shoulders, slowly, and Dirk flinches ever so slightly when flexing his arms. Raising them is even worse. He stays as still as possible while Todd grabs the edges of the hospital t-shirt and pulls it up, revealing bit by bit the outline of his stomach, the naked skin of his chest, the muscles in his arms.

It’s awkward. They both feel awkward. Looking away, afraid of their eyes meeting, afraid of feeling something they’re not supposed to. Todd’s fingers brush against Dirk’s wrists and palms as he pulls the t-shirt off him. A moment of silence passes by. Dirk feels exposed, and yet safe. He already trusted Todd with his life. What’s a bit of tender physical contact between good friends…

Both are eager to limit all touch and both want nothing more than to fail completely at it.

The Mexican funeral shirt goes on, this time with even more fingertips against skin. A brush of Dirk’s hair, a millisecond slide on the side of his neck, a gentle pat on his back as the shirt is pulled down and stays. The yellow jacket is next; Dirk feels like a prince, being clothed like that. He thanks Todd quietly and gives him a soft smile. Todd smiles back and assures him that it’s his pleasure.

That phrase slipped before he had time to think it through.

They both decide not to dwell on it.

They sit side by side in the car, and they sit closer still at the diner with Farah. The conversation flows like a feisty river and the dull ache of his wounds is so far at the back of Dirk’s mind that he hardly notices it. He’s okay. He’s surrounded by friends. And life might not be any less complicated than before, but at least he has real, not imaginary reasons to be happy.

He has known Todd for seven days and there is _something_ he feels about him but he cannot for the life of him figure it out.

It’s not love; it’s not even a crush, not yet – but it is A Thing.

And Dirk doesn’t want it to stop.

*

It is day one hundred and twenty-seven of knowing Todd.

Dirk is exhausted, but relieved.

The subsiding adrenaline levels that follow a successfully concluded case is an unforgettable rush. The chase is long over, the danger has passed; he’s safe and sound in his apartment.

His and Todd’s apartment.

And Todd is sitting close.

-I want coffee. – Dirk declares.

-You hate coffee. – Todd points out.

-I want the kind of coffee where it has so much milk and sugar and vanilla in it that you can’t even tell it’s coffee.

-I’ll make you hot chocolate later. – Todd suggests a compromise. – After I deal with your battle injuries.

Dirk chuckles but obeys, sitting down, a model patient. Todd has gotten quite good with a first aid kit since they’ve first met. He goes over his every cut and scrap – most acquired honorably when he tripped over a pipe and fell face-first into a pile of bricks – cleaning and covering every tiny gash.

-You have a knife wound somewhere on your side. – Todd says.

-Oh it’s hardly a knife wound. – Dirk scoffs. – It’s a scrap. It’s what happens to knife wielding criminals when they skip lectures and drop out of knife college.

-Shut up and take off your shirt. – Todd says, and, without waiting for a reply, pulls the shirt off of him.

He examines the wound carefully and a frown creases his nose bridge.

-Okay that is _not_ a scrap. – Todd mutters, dabbing at the sides of the wound with a piece of sterile gauze. – It looks pretty bad, actually. Like, close to the liver. And that’s, well, I don’t know what it means exactly but hitting the liver is bad. I know that. – He pours antiseptic on the gauze and Dirk flinches as he presses it into the wound. – You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.

-Well I didn’t. – Dirk replies.

-I don’t think it went in very deep but it still looks nasty. – Todd frowns again. – Jeez. Why didn’t you tell me when that she stabbed you this bad?

-It’s _fine_. – Dirk rolls his eyes. – It’s not bleeding anymore, it will heal. Why are you so worried anyway?

-Because I am your boyfriend, dumbass, and you could have died. – Todd blurts out.

There is a moment of silence. Dirk blinks. Todd busies himself with covering up the wound.

-You’ve never called me your boyfriend before. – Dirk says, softly, meekly.

-You don’t like it? – Todd asks. – Cause if you don’t, there are other words like, you know, partner, and…

-I love it. – Dirk grins. – I love you.

The air grows still and the world ceases to spin for a moment, and time belongs to them and them only. This isn’t the first time The Words have been said and not the last, but they always sound fresh and bright and sincere; the most sincere words Dirk have ever said, Todd has heard.

The wounds are dealt with, he’s hardly aware of them now. Adrenaline is still pumping through his veins. They are sitting so close to each other, their faces just a few inches apart. Soon their lips meet, bridging the gap; Dirk’s finger’s in Todd’s hair, Todd’s hands on Dirk’s naked back. Next, the other’s shirt is off, discarded somewhere on the floor. Their bodies are pressed tight to each other, hot skin against hot skin, and Dirk can already feel rise somewhere low a tingling fire, burning bright.

Hands are wandering idly along their bodies. Lips locked, one’s tongue in another’s slightly opened mouth, completely consumed by the moment. Blood leaves their stomachs, setting butterflies free, and rushes down and down. Every touch burns pleasure, eyes closed shut, concentrated on the feeling of naked flesh, the sound of sharp breaths and tepid moans. The world has stopped, stopped for them, and given all its time to these lovers.

There will be more cases, and more danger, and more daring pursuits, and, knowing Dirk, probably more falling down face first into a pile of bricks. This hardly matters – as long as Todd will be around to take care of him afterwards.

It is day one hundred and twenty-seven of knowing Todd, and they are sharing one joy for two, utterly lost in each other’s bodies and happier than happiness gets.

It’s not just a thing, it is not just a crush, it’s love. And Dirk feels like it will never, ever stop.

**Author's Note:**

> hell knows what this is even! but i kinda liked some of the lines so here goes
> 
> check out more uhhh meaningful DGHDA content in my AO3 profile and on tumblr at bootstrapparadoxed.tumblr.com (i am writing a S3 novel length fanfic version check it out seriously...)


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